On the Line
by LanternLight13
Summary: "I don't mean to be dramatic, but I-I think I'm buried alive." Felicity runs into some trouble after the latest criminal takedown by Team Arrow.
1. Chapter 1

**So this happened. I wrote this ages ago, my computer crashed and I lost the ending, and only now have gone back to it. Because of that this is kind of set in the middle of the second season, but I updated it to reflect the recent plot points resulting in a sort of alternate season two where the big things still happened. Only three chapters in total.**

**For Laurel-Haters: **I shamelessly use Laurel in this story to further along the plot in a way that is not flattering to the character. However I like Laurel as a character and will not tolerate any hate towards her. Your opinion is great, I'd love to hear that, but I've been abused on this site before because of my opinion on Laurel and that's probably why I've taken so long to write anything new. In conclusion, opinions are great; for or against. Hate and insults are not welcome.

**Mentions of violence, small spaces, and up to and including season two spoilers.**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Inside the bare concrete floor was lit by floodlights and inconspicuous waiters walked the crowd with trays of drinks. Everyone was gathered in the centre of the room, all the lights and attention focused on the temporary boxing ring. Armed guards patrolled the edges of the huge space, hidden by the shadows but Felicity could now be considered an expert on scoping out security measures.

"I'm in," she muttered, grabbing a glass from one of the waiters and mumbling into it. Since she signed onto the arrow team she had seen most of Starling City's underground. It started with the casino, then secret mob headquarters and tonight she was at an illegal fighting ring.

The ring had drawn the Arrow's attention when the group had branched out from semi-professional fighters and started to pay desperate Glade-dwellers to star in the fights. There were even rumours of death matches, despite Felicity finding no evidence of any deaths, but either way the ring had to be stopped before it escalated. To stop them, however, they needed information. She had had to work her way up to get an in for the event, starting off with a fight in a dodgy looking gym two weeks ago. That had led her to an abandoned community hall in the Glades and that in turn scored her an invite to the classy event tonight – where hopefully there was someone high-up enough in the organisation to have the information they needed to shut the whole thing down. The worst part of it all though was that there was a dress code, the men wearing suits and the few women in colourful dresses and jewels, like dressing up the event made it all better.

Pulling out of her thoughts Felicity got back to work. "At least two guards on each entrance and one or two on the open upper level," she announced.

"_Got it_," Oliver said, picking her up over their earpieces.

"I've got eyes on Digg. I think I'll go introduce myself."

Walking through the crowd Felicity made her way to where the fighters were being corralled in a roped-off area. Five men were lined up, all shirtless, each with two guards standing on either side as the crowd inspected them. John Diggle was one of them.

Felicity walked up and down the rope fence making a show of inspecting the men. They all looked vicious in one way or another. John was not the largest by one, but what the others lost in muscles was made up for with tattoos or scars, showing that they were seasoned fighters. Felicity rolled her eyes mentally when she realised she could accurately judge the men's fighting prowess.

At first they thought that the ring would be a simple operation, and had decided an inside man was the surest way to get information they could pass along to the police, so Diggle had volunteered as bait for the selectors with his recognisable military background. However they soon found out that the fighters were exposed to next to no useful information. They didn't even know the location to the fights, they were just picked up and driven there, and then cleaned up as they wanted them presentable for the idle rich. That meant that Diggle couldn't have any communication device without being discovered, nor a tracker as they gave them new clothes. Diggle was essentially going in blind so Felicity was there to fix that, with Diggle as her backup.

She stopped in front of Diggle and looked him over.

"What's your name, gorgeous?" he asked with a wink.

"Megan," she smiled back. "Are you going to win this fight for me?"

"Depends. Will I see you after?"

"Maybe," Felicity said coyly. Reaching into her clutch she pulled out a fake business card. Holding it up to show the guard that it was just a card, she then held it out to Diggle. "Call me," she said as flirtatiously as she could, because after all it was Diggle and really it was like flirting with a sibling which was all kinds of wrong. Passing him the card she also managed to stealthily slip him an earpiece.

She sauntered away, or at least she liked to think she sauntered and found a place off to the side of the crowd.

"I gave Digg the earpiece," she said to Oliver.

"_I'm here_," Diggle announced. "_Good work, Felicity_."

"Five minutes to the fight," Felicity advised. "Moving into position."

Skirting the crowd Felicity headed over to the betting table. The bookie was the only part of the fighting ring that kept records and they hoped he had some information that led to the rest of the ring. Follow the money as it were, helped along by the fact that the more affluent patrons preferred to wire a deposit through their anonymous accounts. Walking around the Glades with thousands in cash was a bad idea. Lining up to make her bet, she glanced at the laptop that she would be hacking once a distraction occurred. And boy would it be a big distraction.

Felicity watched calmly as the first two fighters were led into the ring and barely flinched as the lights cut out and chaos descended. The sounds of screams accompanied the whistling of arrows through the air.

The room was now lit only by the torches at the end of the guard's guns, trying to identify where the Arrow was. In the broken light Felicity snagged the laptop off the table and ducked over to the side where she was out of the way. The bookie was trying to secure the cash as people demanded their money back instead of running so he didn't notice his missing laptop.

Felicity frantically worked, downloading everything onto her USB, willing it to copy faster. She flinched when someone came near her, but relaxed when she recognised John.

"Thirty seconds," she said and he nodded taking a protective stance over her. "Alright, done." She placed the laptop back on the table, the bookie still having no idea that it had gone missing.

Diggle hustled Felicity out of the warehouse, the guards too distracted by everything else to care that one of their fighters was escaping.

"We're clear," Diggle told Oliver as they hit the night air. Sirens could be heard in the distance.

"_Meet back at the safe house_," Oliver ordered.

They made their way to where the car was parked a few streets over and headed back to the building where Oliver had set up his second hideout.

Felicity went straight to the computers, eager to look at the data she had stolen. She kicked off her high heels as she waited for the data to load and started to remove the many hairpins that had been keeping her hair up in the fancy bun. She zoned out the rest of the room as she concentrated on her computers. She vaguely noticed when Oliver returned and quickly looked up to see if he was injured, but he seemed fine and she went back to her task.

"How did we do?" Oliver asked as he noticed her smile in triumph a few minutes later.

"Well, asides from the extensive list of rich people in this city with serious morality issues, there isn't much."

"And that's a good thing?" Diggle asked.

"Yes. I noticed several of the spectators tonight used their private driving service to get there, and each of those cars has a GPS. I hacked the driving companies and accessed the past GPS routes and with a little cross referencing I got a set of locations in the Glades that they use for the fights. There are only so many places in the city to hold an illegal fight so they rotate the…" she quickly counted her list "…eleven locations in a random order."

"That's…very resourceful, Felicity," Oliver said in amazement.

"I aim to please," she shrugged. "So now all we need to do it tip off the police about the locations, they go in and arrest everybody and someone should talk to lead them to the ringleader. Voila, fight ring crumbles."

"Where are we on the ringleader?" Oliver asked. "Police resources what they are I doubt they'll be able to find him if they have to spread out over eleven separate locations."

"Now I know the names of the spectators I know which bank accounts to target. With the deposit required for tonight's fight I can follow the money, but if they are any good it will take me a while to track it. Criminals tend to be paranoid about these things."

"Let me know when you have something," Oliver ordered.

"Aye, aye," Felicity saluted and spun back to her computers.

Oliver and Diggle shared a fond smile at Felicity's eccentricities and went about their own business.

* * *

It was a few days later when Felicity got a hit on the fight ring money trace.

She blinked in surprise as she hadn't seriously been working on it; she was at Queen Consolidated, returned to her former title of IT consultant, and after finishing her required work for the day had been alternating between Arrow projects and trying to get Oliver back as the CEO. The money had been wired through multiple accounts to disguise its trail but Felicity had been tenacious and it had paid off.

Grabbing her phone Felicity quickly dialled Oliver. "I got him," she announced her triumphant grin obvious to Oliver through her voice. "Everything I have on Leonardo Yates I've just sent to the private server. We have our fight ringleader and by all accounts a very dangerous man."

"_I'll call Diggle. We hit him tonight_."

"He won't know what's coming."

* * *

The taking down of Leonardo Yates made not just the local news but also international. The SCPD were lauded over their good work and their budget was increased so that they could keep fighting the good fight. The Arrow was never mentioned.

Felicity spend a few minutes complaining about how the police force kept taking credit for their good work but cut off when she saw the look of pure amusement on Oliver's face.

"What?" she asked.

"It's just…you're so irate about this."

"And you aren't? I mean I wasn't the one running around with a bow and arrow but I once had this group project in college that I spent all this time on because my partner refused to do anything and then she had the nerve to claim that I did nothing and that it was all _her_ work and I nearly punched her. Not that I ever would, and apparently I wouldn't have done a very good job because Diggle told me I have been punching wrong for all my life…and seriously why don't you ever stop me?" She took a breath and looked at Oliver who was no longer just amused but was wearing a genuine smile.

"I'm just happy Yates is off the streets," he said and then added, "and I think you're angry enough for the both of us."

"This is coming from the grrr-arrow-guy?" Felicity asked incredulously. "Go sharpen your arrows, Oliver," she scowled, throwing one of his tennis balls at him.

Oliver laughed and easily dodged the ball.

Felicity turned back to her computers, hiding a smile. It was rewarding to see a light-hearted Oliver.

It was a quiet week, the city's underground rocked by the arrest of Yates, everyone keeping a low profile while the police were riding the high of success. Oliver kept the nightly patrols to a minimum in the lull, using his time to put more effort into figuring out the whole QC mess which he had neglected slightly in the lead up to discovering Yates. Felicity appreciated the break as it meant she went home at a more acceptable hour and had enough time to do some of the things that she had been putting off - like a proper clean of her apartment and meeting up with a few work friends, especially now she was back in IT.

It seemed like Oliver was also enjoying the small break as he came into Verdant one night with a smile on his face announcing that he and Laurel were having dinner that night so everyone could all have the night off if nothing came up on the scanners.

"Are you sure it's a good idea to go out with Laurel?" Diggle asked. Felicity paused at her work her attention caught. She was glad her friend had breached the subject first so she didn't have to.

"I know she was upset with us for going after Yates without her, but I think she's over it now, especially since she got the prosecution case against him." His smile fell, "And I was hoping she might be able to give me a few legal pointers about getting Queen Consolidated back."

Diggle clapped Oliver on the shoulder in understanding. "As long as you're both on the same page – you two are as stubborn as each other. It'll be good for us all to have a night off."

"Hot date?" Felicity asked Diggle impishly.

"Maybe," he admitted.

Felicity broke into a wide smile. "Where are you taking Lyla? There's a great new bistro on third that has these amazing ice-cream sundaes, I think she was craving ice-cream last I saw her, oh and a little further down is Ping's. Best dumplings ever."

"Whoa, girl, slow down," Diggle laughed. "I don't know where I'm going, Lyla is taking me out."

"Aww, Digg, who knew you were such a romantic," Felicity teased.

"Uh-huh," he dismissed walking over to the training area.

"Any plans, Felicity?" Oliver asked politely.

"Only if you count a bottle of wine, television and painting my nails."

"Sounds nice," Oliver said honestly.

Felicity had a sudden image of her and Oliver siting on her old couch with a bottle of wine. She quickly changed the subject. "So, where are you going to take Laurel?"

The three of them left the lair at the same time later that night, the guys walking Felicity to her car before going their own way. Usually only one of them escorted her, but they were still arguing over whose fault it was that Diggle's phone had been broken – it was now sitting in the trash can in pieces after it had had an unfortunate meeting with the unforgiving cement floor. When Felicity wished them a good night they were still arguing.

It was an uneventful ride home for Felicity and she walked to her door slowly as she checked the calendar on her phone; her car was due for a service soon and she had to find time to take it in.

Opening her door she threw the keys to the side before turning to close the door behind her. She didn't have time to scream as a masked man came from nowhere and shoved her door open again, the blunt edge catching her on the head as she stumbled backwards and fell on the floor.

In a daze she watched as the man closed the door behind him. He looked down at her and decided she was out for the count. He pulled out a phone and dialed a number. "I got her," he said turning away from her.

Seeing his phone, Felicity realised that she still had hers tightly clutched in her hand. She didn't have time to call or message someone, but she curled into a small ball until her hand was near her feet and slipped the phone into her left boot. She was just in time as the man turned back to her and grabbed her leg to drag her further into her apartment. Felicity took the opportunity to lash out, kicking up with the leg he held and catching him in the stomach.

Scrambling to her feet she tried to get to either her bedroom with the window she could climb out of or her bathroom with the lock. The man bowled into her from behind and she fell back to the floor, upsetting her side table first, the man's weight pinning her down as well as the table's.

Screaming at the top of her lungs, hoping one of her neighbours was home, she struggled. Her elbow hit something that crunched and she guessed she had just broken his nose judging by the sound and the amount of cursing he was doing. He moved just enough for her to wriggle out from under him while he was distracted. Backing up she grabbed the first thing she could, a lamp, and threw it at the intruder. It missed and he continued to go after her, the broken table impeding him only slightly as he shouted in anger.

Felicity got as far as her bedroom door before she was grabbed from behind and thrown into the wall. She hit her already dazed head and fell heavily. This time the man didn't second guess her and kicked her twice in the stomach.

She gasped in pain and he picked her up by her shirt collar. "That was from me," he snarled. "The rest is from Yates."

He delivered a punch to her face.

Blackness came swiftly.

* * *

Felicity woke up slowly.

It was dark.

Everything hurt.

Her head hurt most which was why she was obviously having trouble putting her thoughts together.

The next thing she realised was that she couldn't move.

Her hands were bound, her feet as well, and she was lying on her side on a hard uncomfortable surface.

Her next realisation came with a heavy dose of panic; she wasn't blindfolded, her eyes were open and it was pitch black.

Reaching out in front of her she banged her hands on a course piece of wood. Rolling over, ignoring the pain, she frantically stretched up, hitting wood again with a solid thump, just inches above her head. A fine layer of dirt rained down on her and she coughed. Stretching out her feet and feeling around her, all Felicity could find was solid wood.

"Oh no," she sobbed as she finally understood.

She was buried alive.


	2. Chapter 2

**I couldn't resist the cliff-hanger, sorry.**

This is the chapter that I'm mean to Laurel. So once more with feeling, opinions are great; for or against. Hate and insults are not welcome.

**Thanks for all the reviews/follows/favourites, but I know you all want to find out what happens so here's part 2/3.**

* * *

Felicity woke up slowly.

It was dark.

Everything hurt.

Her head hurt most which was why she was obviously having trouble putting her thoughts together.

The next thing she realised was that she couldn't move.

Her hands were bound, her feet as well, and she was lying on her side on a hard uncomfortable surface.

Her next realisation came with a heavy dose of panic; she wasn't blindfolded, her eyes were open and it was pitch black.

Reaching out in front of her she banged her hands on a course piece of wood. Rolling over, ignoring the pain, she frantically stretched up, hitting wood again with a solid thump, just inches above her head. A fine layer of dirt rained down on her and she coughed. Stretching out her feet and feeling around her, all Felicity could find was solid wood.

"Oh no," she sobbed as she finally understood.

She was buried alive.

* * *

The panic overwhelmed Felicity at first. She wrenched mercilessly at the plastic cable ties that held her feet and hands together, banging on the wooden box around her to no effect. She didn't realise she was screaming until her throat started to hurt. When she accidentally banged her head against the ceiling, right where the edge of her door had caught her earlier, the new pain hit her and knocked some sense into her.

"Okay," she whispered to herself, "First things first. Felicity, can you get out?" Running her hands around the box as far as she could she determined that it was rectangular, felt really small and was very well made. Hitting the roof and sides a few times she suspected that she was actually buried under dirt and it wasn't just an overactive imagination.

"Next, what have I got to work with?" Her pockets were empty, her glasses were missing and the most solid thing she had on her were her boots. Her boots…where she had hidden her phone.

"Please, please, please," she begged as she maneuvered her body in the small space trying to reach her shoes. Her ribs protested as she moved, cracked or broken she guessed from how Oliver and Diggle described the feeling, and the rough wood scratched at her where she pressed into it.

She finally reached her shoes, contorted into an unnatural position with her face pressed into the uncomfortable wood, ribs and bruises screaming in pain. Her fingers grazed over her still present phone. She sobbed in relief as she very carefully pulled it out of her boot and moved back until she was lying on her side, phone clutched tightly in her fingers. It took a second for her to get a hang of using the phone with her wrists tied together, but she managed.

Turning it on the sudden light blinded her. Forcing herself to keep looking into the light as her eyes watered she checked her cell reception, familiarity meaning she could read it without her glasses. She had a few bars and she breathed a little easier. She was obviously not too far underground.

Selecting her contacts list she dialed Oliver's number and held her breath as the phone connected.

* * *

Oliver was enjoying himself as he ate a late dinner with Laurel at a little Italian restaurant at the edge of the Glades. It was small enough that he wouldn't get harassed by the media but large enough to have a decent chef. It had been ages since he and Laurel had a chance to catch up. In recent months Laurel had been pushing to help Oliver and the others with their night-time activities, sometimes successfully as Diggle was taking a backseat with Lyla being very much pregnant. Yates and the fighting ring had been a point of contention though. Laurel had been chasing the ring for ages, but Oliver had pointed out that they needed to be stealthy which meant undercover and Laurel was recognisable as a lawyer in the DAs office. Felicity had won the role by explaining that people rarely noticed her; remembered the blonde hair but nothing else.

"How did you find this place?" Laurel asked. "I've been working in the Glades for years and didn't know it existed."

Her smile dropped as she remembered CNRI, both good and bitter memories. Oliver noticed but he didn't bring it up as she quickly recovered.

"Felicity found it," he said. "If we are working over dinner this is one of the places we get takeout from."

"She has good taste," Laurel said and changed the subject.

Dinner progressed and Oliver found the time flew. The only interruption was when a business woman, obvious from her attire, and her husband walked in.

"That's Imogen Lands, one of the Queen Consolidated stock holders," Oliver explained apologetically as he put down his glass and buttoned his suit jacket, "I have to say hello. Felicity identified her as one of the deciding weights on the board. Whichever way she leans the rest generally follow. Nothing is final but there might be a chance I can get Queen Consolidated back if I can convince enough people, so I should try to make a good impression."

"That's great, Ollie," Laurel said in delight.

"It was all Felicity's doing. She helped me come up with a great business model to present to the board based on renewing the R&D department. Hendricks nearly fell out of his chair when she admitted that over a third of the company's programming breakthroughs were because of her." Oliver laughed at the memory and Laurel offered a tight smile. "I'll just say hello to her and be right back. If I take you with me she'll probably offer to join our tables and we'll be stuck talking business all night."

"Go do business," Laurel smiled, shooing him away.

Laurel watched Oliver walk across the room before she made a show of sipping her water when the group looked over as Oliver explained his being there. For something to do she scanned the room and its many occupants and ended up fixing on their table when she heard a ringtone. Oliver had left his phone behind and Laurel quickly leaned over and muted it before it could disturb the other diners. _'Felicity Smoak'_ the screen read and she found herself frowning. Laurel was decidedly sick of Felicity Smoak; Oliver wasn't much of a conversationalist, but it seemed to her that Oliver mentioned Felicity in at least every discussion they had had in the last few months. When she had offered help in the Yates case, especially since they needed to infiltrate the ring, he had said Felicity could handle it. It wasn't jealousy per se, Laurel just needed to _do_ something and Oliver had chosen the computer girl with little combat skills for the role instead of herself, who could handle just about anything thanks to her cop father. She hated feeling useless and she knew as soon as Felicity called it would no doubt be news that would cause Oliver to run off into the night, leaving her behind. He had promised that it would be an evening for them to reconnect but it felt like Felicity was invading their night. Deciding that Felicity was capable enough to deal the situation with the help of Diggle she picked up Oliver's phone.

"Hello, Felicity," Laurel said as she answered the phone. "Oliver is busy and will have to call you back later." She hung up before the other woman could say a word. Placing the phone back on the table, Laurel drained the last of her water, and ignored the guilt that crept up on her. She hadn't needed to be so rude. Felicity would call back if it was important and she would apologise, she decided.

* * *

Felicity stared at her phone in disbelief.

Laurel Lance had answered Oliver's phone and hung up on her.

That right there was unheard of, but with Felicity's situation as it was, she had no words to dignify what she felt.

Taking a deep breath and ignoring the side of her brain that was telling her about how much oxygen her box had left before she suffocated, Felicity considered her next choice of who to call. Diggle was the obvious answer and she was about to dial when she realised that his phone was broken. She had given him one of their burner phones as a temporary phone but she didn't have his number.

She was about to call the police, what any normal person would do if they didn't have a direct line to the city's hero, when something better came to mind. Dialing she held her breath again as the phone rang.

"Detective Lance," she said when the phone picked up, barely hiding a sob of relief.

"_Felicity, what's wrong?_" he asked immediately.

"I don't mean to be dramatic, but I-I think I'm buried alive."

He paused as he registered what she had said. "_Okay…okay…I can work with that. Do you know where you are?_"

"No."

In the background she heard him shouting for someone to trace the call. "_How much battery does your phone have?_" he asked.

"Couple of hours at least."

"_Good, that's good. Are you hurt?_"

She sniffed heavily. "I'm so glad you picked up your phone."

"_It's going to be okay, Felicity. We're tracing your number now and that will lead us straight to you. You just got to hold on a little bit longer, sweetheart._"

"I don't know how much air I have left," she whispered, "or how long I've been in here."

"_Do you feel light-headed or dizzy?_"

"Yes, but that could be because I probably have a concussion."

"_You never make this simple, do you Smoak?_"

She gave a watery laugh. Shouts sounded in the background of the phone and Felicity tensed.

"_We've got you, Felicity_," Lance said elatedly. "_You're on the edge of the city at a junkyard. I'm fifteen minutes away, just hold on, okay?_"

"Okay."

It was the longest fifteen minutes of her life, beating out that one awkward car ride with Isobel Rochev in Russia and the many times Oliver had managed to lose his earpiece in the middle of fighting the bad guys. Lance helped by talking to her, keeping up a constant stream of conversation that Felicity could focus on.

"_We're here, sweetheart_," he announced. "_Just a couple more minutes, I promise_."

There was silence over the phone as the digging started and Felicity lay there with tears dripping down her cheeks as she waited. The seconds stretched out but she started to hear noises, voices, shouts, all becoming clearer.

Suddenly the box shuddered and she held her bound hands over her face protectively as the lid was pulled off and light shone in her face.

"Lower your torches," the familiar voice of Lance ordered and then he was there, climbing down to her side and carefully picking her up.

"I got you, it's going to be okay," he said as he passed her to the waiting paramedics where an oxygen mask was immediately placed over her face.

* * *

Oliver and Laurel had just ordered coffee after their meal when Oliver's phone went off.

"It's your dad," Oliver said, frowning and picking up the call. "Detective Lance, is everything okay?"

"_Your ex-assistant, Ms Smoak was involved in an incident tonight_," he stated without preamble.

Oliver felt as if the world tilted.

"Is she okay?" he got out.

"_She sustained some injuries, but nothing more serious than a concussion. You're listed as an emergency contact. I'm with her now at Starling General_."

"I'll be right there." He hung up the phone and immediately stood.

"Ollie, is everything okay?" Laurel asked concerned.

"There's been…I've got to go to the hospital. Can you…"

"Go, I'll settle the bill and catch a cab."

"Thank you," he said and then he was gone.

Oliver wasn't aware how he got to the hospital. He quickly found that Felicity was in the private ward of the hospital, with her ties to him and the company Lance must have guessed her visit could result in a media presence. Oliver rushed through the halls until he came face to face with Lance who was talking with a uniformed officer. He looked between the older man and the closed door behind him, waring between wanting answers and just wanting to see her. Lance decided for him.

"She's in with a nurse right now, Mr Queen. They just took her for some tests and are settling her into her room."

"What happened?"

"She was buried alive."

Oliver had to reach out a hand to the wall to ground himself. "What?"

"I got a call from Ms Smoak earlier tonight. She had been attacked in her apartment but managed to conceal her phone in her shoe. She woke up in a box with her hands and feet tied. She called me knowing I could trace the call. She was in a junkyard under a foot of dirt in a wooden coffin." Lance paused and scrubbed his tired face. "I haven't told her that bit yet."

"Who would…?" Oliver asked, mind already going through the possibilities. Was it because of him, the Arrow or a random attack?

"Leonardo Yates," Lance said grimly. "Apparently it was a revenge play; though how Ms Smoak would be connected to Yates I have no idea." No one else would have picked up the sarcasm, but they both knew what Felicity did with her nights. "At this point we are thinking mistaken identity. Just in case I'm stationing an officer at her door while we track down the perpetrators."

Oliver swallowed thickly. "How is she?"

"Concussion, three cracked ribs and her wrists and ankles were cut pretty bad from the cable ties. She wasn't affected by oxygen deprivation for too long so they just want to keep her overnight for observation."

Two nurses appeared out of the hospital room and one went to talk to Lance. She eyed Oliver but didn't ask. "You'll have to wait until morning for an official statement, Detective. We had to sedate her for the tests so she'll be out for another hour or so."

"Sedation?" Oliver asked.

"The scans we needed involve putting the patient in an enclosed space and Miss Smoak was understandably upset by this. Sedation was needed if we were to determine the extent of her injuries."

Oliver's eyes flew from the nurse to the room where Felicity was.

The nurse left and Lance gave Oliver a hard look. "I have to go back to the station to finish off my shift. I didn't quite know what to think when Ms Smoak asked me to call you, I figured after you stopped being CEO she'd stop hanging around you." Lance looked over the younger man. Oliver was hard to read at the best of times, but right now Lance could see the underlying tension and how his eyes kept returning to Felicity's door. "Obviously there is more between you both than just a working relationship. I trust you'll look out for Ms Smoak."

Oliver met Lance's eyes. "I'll look after her."

"You better, Queen, or I'll make sure trouble finds you."

"Yes, sir."

Lance nodded and walked away.

Oliver finally opened the door to Felicity's room.

He stopped short when he saw her.

He fully expected to feel anger but instead he just felt empty as he tried to equate his bright IT girl with the woman on the bed.

She was asleep – sedated Oliver reminded himself – at the moment, arms placed over the hospital blanket with an IV in and an oxygen tube in her nose. She was still; the only thing moving in the room was the graphs and stats on the machines around her.

Letting out the breath he was unaware he was holding, Oliver moved further into the room. He stood next to the bed and looked down at Felicity who looked impossibly young and fragile, nothing like how Oliver pictured her.

Her face was the worst, butterfly bandages covering her forehead where a small cut was sitting, surrounded by a dark bruise that blended in with her black eye. She had an assortment of minor bruises and scratches on her arms and her wrists were heavily bandaged.

Pulling the chair closer to the bed Oliver dropped into it and only hesitated slightly before he took her hand in his own. He stared dumbly at her small hand, dwarfed by his own, the bright white bandages standing out against the dark bruises.

"I'm so sorry," Oliver whispered brokenly.

There was no answer.

* * *

Felicity woke occasionally throughout the night as the nurses came in to check on her but it was fleeting and she was asleep again by the time Oliver was allowed back to her side.

He took a moment to call Diggle and explain the situation. Diggle offered to come to the hospital but instead Oliver asked him to start looking into who it was that attacked Felicity and how Yates knew who she was. Oliver would stay with her for now in case they decided to try for her again and Diggle would come by the hospital in the morning with a change of clothes for Felicity, her spare glasses, and her beloved tablet.

It was just before dawn when Felicity woke up properly for the first time but it was not a gentle awakening.

She woke with a gasp and immediately tried to sit up but her ribs stopped her and she curled up on her side, hissing in pain between short breaths.

"Felicity," Oliver called, but she didn't hear and tried to throw her blanket off, upsetting her ribs more.

"Felicity," Oliver called again, catching and holding her arms trying to get her to go lie still before she hurt herself more.

"I can't get out," she whimpered, still in the nightmare, "I can't…trapped…you…you didn't come."

"Felicity," he said, crouching down so he was face to face with her. "It's okay, you're safe, I promise," he had to repeat it twice more before she calmed down. Slowly he released her arms. Cupping the back of her head he waited for her to meet his gaze.

"Oliver?" she asked, eyes open wide and filled with tears.

"Hey, I lost you for a second there."

"I…" Tears fell down her cheeks.

Brushing back her hair Oliver reached out with his other hand and took hers. She grabbed on and held it as tight as she could. "You're safe," Oliver repeated.

Felicity nodded and took several deep breaths. "I was back there," she explained, "except this time no one came and I was trapped…It wasn't a pleasant experience."

"No," Oliver laughed sadly. "No, it wouldn't be. But I'll always come for you, Felicity. You know that right?"

She nodded and then groaned as she jostled her head, tiredly blinking her eyes.

"You should get some rest," Oliver gently urged, helping her reposition herself and covering her again with the blanket. She didn't respond as she was already asleep.

When Diggle arrived he found Oliver sitting beside the bed watching over a sleeping Felicity. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and tie and suit jacket long discarded. Oliver looked wounded, Diggle decided, though not like any of the times he was physically injured.

"How is she?" he asked quietly, putting the bag of supplies on the floor except for the spare pair of glasses which he placed on the nightstand.

"She's…She'll heal."

"You've talked to her?"

"Briefly. She woke up from a nightmare and I had to convince her that she wasn't still trapped."

"She's strong, Oliver. She'll get through this."

"I know. I just wish she didn't have to."

Diggle could only agree. "Why don't you take a break, grab a coffee or something?" Oliver went to argue. "I'll look after her, man, don't worry."

Oliver sighed in defeat and followed Diggle's suggestion.

It was still early in the morning but the hospital was buzzing. Dodging several nurses and doctors Oliver made his way to the coffee station around the corner from Felicity's room. While waiting for the machine to slowly fill a cup he contemplated what had to be done. Felicity's safety was paramount so Yates had to be stopped, either by force or convincing him he had the wrong girl. Then there was the man that had physically attacked her. He would not get off easy. Felicity's apartment would also have to be re-assessed for security.

Picking up what would surely be horrible coffee Oliver sat down in one of the nearby chairs and pulled out his phone. Laurel had tried to contact him, but instead of opening the series of text messages Oliver instead went to his call log. The only information he had on what happened last night was what Detective Lance had told him and he hated working with so little. Finding out what time he had got the call from Lance and guessing about what time Felicity got home would give him an idea of how long Felicity had been in danger.

Scrolling through the incoming calls he had received he found Lance's but his eye was immediately drawn to the name below.

_Felicity Smoak._

She had called him.

Felicity had called him while she was trapped in that box before she had called Lance.

He had briefly wondered why she hadn't called him; he was after all able to track her phone signal just as well as Lance, if not better. It had even hurt slightly that she wouldn't trust him to save her, but he had rationalised that she had her reasons and pushed it to the back of his mind because it wasn't important as long as she was okay.

But she had called him, had needed him and he had failed her.

Groaning, Oliver dropped his head into his hands, the guilt landing heavily on his heart. He thought back to how she had to be sedated for her to calm down. She was terrified by the ordeal and would probably deny it for as long as she could. She shouldn't be able to trust him anymore, hell, she should hate him, but she wouldn't. He knew she wouldn't. She'd just blindly believe in him like she always did. And that just made it worse. God, and her nightmare; she had said he hadn't come, that she was still trapped. He had thought it was just a dream, but no, it really happened – he hadn't come for her.

Oliver stood abruptly. He had to fix this, he had to apologise, he had to do _something_.

"Oliver," a voice called and he spun around to find Laurel standing in the hospital hallway. She was clutching her handbag to her chest and looking around nervously.

"Laurel, what are you…?"

"When I didn't hear from you I called my dad. He told me what had happened."

Oliver put on mask to hide his urgent need to return to Felicity and rubbed at his growing beard. "I'm sorry I didn't call you back, it's just with everything," he shrugged and gestured vaguely around him at the hospital.

"Of course," Laurel said immediately, "totally understandable." She paused, "How is Felicity?"

"She should hopefully be released later today."

"That's good," Laurel said.

"Yeah. Look, I should get back…"

"Oliver, wait!"

Oliver turned back at Laurel's pleading tone. "Laurel?"

"I didn't know," she gasped out. "She called your phone and I was just so mad that she was interrupting our dinner that I hung up on her. If I had known that she was in trouble I would never have done that. I'm so sorry, Oliver."

"You answered Felicity's phone call?" Oliver asked slowly.

"Yes," Laurel whispered, "and I am so, so sorry."

"I…you…I have to get back, Laurel." It was the only thing that made sense in amongst his heaving emotions. If he thought about what Laurel had put Felicity through, what she had done by not telling him about the call, he wasn't quite sure what he would do.

"I'm sorry, Oliver," Laurel said for the third time, reaching out to touch his arm.

"Stop," Oliver snapped. Laurel snatched her hand back, eyes wide in surprise. "Stop apologising to me, it wasn't my life on the line, it isn't me in a hospital bed. It's not me!" Oliver took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

Laurel took a step back, wiping away a single tear. "I should go. Will you please tell Felicity that I didn't mean to…"

"I will."

"I'll call you?" she asked shyly.

"I'll be busy for a while," Oliver responded sharply.

"Okay. Bye, Oliver."


	3. Chapter 3

**Last chapter, guys. I could have gone so many places with this, some of you more than others were very specific on what you'd love to see, but it's a rewrite of a lost chapter and I've been working on this for so long that I just wanted to finish it.**

**Thanks so much for the reviews, follows and/or favourites, support means a lot. Enjoy.**

* * *

Felicity looked up from her less than stellar hospital breakfast when she heard the door open. She had had many nurses and a doctor in and out of her room since she had woken up, but she still looked to the door every time, expecting someone different.

That person walked in this time and Felicity offered Oliver a soft smile.

"Hey!" she protested as Diggle stole a piece of fruit off her plate while she was distracted.

Diggle just smirked while Oliver took the seat opposite him on the other side of her bed.

"How are you feeling?" Oliver asked softly as she turned to face him.

"Like I got hit in the head," she shrugged and then winced as she moved her ribs. "I don't know how you guys do this. Not get hit in the head, that one is pretty self-explanatory, but you act like you haven't been hurt or ignore it entirely. I almost wish I could do that."

"No," both Oliver and Diggle said simultaneously.

She blinked and took in their serious looks. "Okay," she hedged.

"It's a matter of getting used to pain, Felicity," Diggle explained. "That is not something Oliver and I want to happen to you."

"Gotcha, no more getting hurt then. I think I can handle that." She adjusted her glasses. "So, where did you guys get on tracking the guy that attacked me?" Oliver and Diggle shared a look. "Uh-uh, don't you dare lie to me and tell me you haven't started looking into it. I know you have and you know I'm better at finding things than you."

"Felicity," Diggle started to warn and then dropped off.

"Are you sure you want to confront this so early?" Oliver finished. "What we find might not be pleasant and you've already been through so much just in the last day."

"Oliver," Felicity said flatly, "these people are still out there, they know who I am and where I live. I won't be able to get over this until I find them and can hand them off to Detective Lance and we all know that we can do this more quickly if we work together."

Diggle silently passed her a tablet with all the information he had gathered loaded onto it and she spent the next few minutes looking through it.

"Well lucky for all of us I may have hooked up my own security cameras at my house. So with a little searching I can probably get an image for facial recognition and go from there. Someone must have recognised the inquisitive blonde at one of the fights and told Yates."

"He'll probably try again, Felicity," Diggle warned.

"Yes, well, someone will have to either persuade him that he's got the wrong gal or put the fear of God into him." She turned to Oliver.

"If I see him as the Arrow that just confirms the fact that you were helping me and part of the whole operation."

"So don't go as the Arrow," Diggle shrugged.

"Yeah, I'm sure you can be intimidating as Oliver Queen. You can be the scary ex-billionaire with nothing left to lose." Oliver barely hid his flinch and Felicity winced. "Bad choice of words," Felicity whispered. "Sorry."

Oliver offered her a small smile and Diggle changed the topic, telling Felicity about his and Lyla's date.

By the time Detective Lance turned up just before lunch Felicity had accessed her home security feed and borrowed, again, the FBI's facial recognition software. Only the hospital wifi had slowed her down.

"How are you feeling, Ms Smoak?" Lance asked as he knocked on the open door and stepped into the room.

"A little sore, but very much alive," she smiled, ignoring how the simple action pulled at her bruised face.

"Good to hear." He stuffed his hands in his pockets awkwardly. Oliver and Diggle were glaring at him, the former bodyguard doing a much better job at hiding it though. "I'm here to get your official statement if you feel up to it."

"Of course, Detective."

"Then, gentlemen, if you could excuse us," Lance hinted.

Diggle stood up and buttoned his jacket, leaning over to give Felicity a kiss on the forehead. "We're going to be just outside if you need us," he reassured her before he left the room.

"Mr Queen," Lance nudged when he didn't move.

"Could I have a minute alone with Felicity first?"

He looked at Felicity and she nodded. "Alright, I'll allow it." He left, shutting the door behind him.

"Oliver?" Felicity asked hesitantly when he didn't immediately say anything. "Is everything okay?"

"I…" He stood up suddenly and went over to the window, looking out over the city. "Laurel stopped by earlier."

"Oh. _Oh_." Felicity wasn't sure if Oliver knew she had called him first but he had seemed a little off all morning, so she wasn't too surprised by the revelation.

"She apologised," he said, turning back around to face her. "I, uh, don't think she knew whether you wanted to see her or not."

Felicity could read Oliver well, at least when it came to his guilt.

"Oliver, I don't blame anyone except for Yates for putting me here. It's not Laurel's fault for hanging up on me, nor your fault for not picking up your phone."

"I got you into this."

"I chose to stay."

"You called and I wasn't there."

"So? These things happen. It's like Romeo and Juliet all over again…not that I'm calling you a Romeo or that I'm your Juliet, besides that story has way too many flaws and if that's your idea of true love then boy have you got issues…" Oliver gave her a blank look. "Right, Shakespeare rookie – wait, not even Romeo and Juliet? Wow. Uh, anyway, tragic tale of miscommunication, amongst other things."

"Felicity." Guilt, anger, and sadness were all present in his voice, pleading her to stop.

He was still over at the window, staring outside. Felicity tried to get up but her ribs protested and she fell back into her pillows with a frustrated sigh. "Oliver," she called and stretched out her hand. It took him a second but he stepped away from the window and grabbed her extended hand. She squeezed softly and was pleased when he returned the pressure.

"I've been in danger before, Oliver, so I know that if you can do anything about it you'll be there. You're not superhuman despite the amount of roofs you are willing to jump off so there is no way any of us should expect you to just _know_ when something is wrong."

"If Laurel had told me you called I could have gotten to you sooner." He ran his hand through his hair in frustration, "Why wouldn't she tell me?"

Felicity ignored the pain that question induced. Of course this was about Laurel.

"She..." he frowned, looking down at their joined hands. "She broke my trust."

"She didn't know."

"She knows you're important." Oliver met her eyes and Felicity couldn't help but blush at the intensity. "You and Diggle, you have never been anything but honest with me. Laurel and I, God, we are just a bed of lies. I thought that because she knows who I am things would get better, but she…Felicity, you only call when it is important and if she had of told me I could have…"

"Run to my rescue?" she teased.

Oliver huffed in a reluctant laugh. "Maybe, but at least I could have been there when Lance found you. When he called me, told me you were attacked and in the hospital…I just thought there was a chance another person was out of my life."

"Oh, Oliver," Felicity said, tugging on his still joined hand so she could reach up and hug him. Sara was off the grid, Thea as well, his mother was gone, his father, Tommy…the list went on. He held her gently, humouring the hug but cautious of her injuries. He couldn't hurt her.

"You should talk to Laurel," Felicity said as Oliver stepped back.

"Not yet." Felicity shot him a disapproving look. "I will, just give me some time."

"Okay. Now go and get Detective Lance so I can get this over and done with."

"You'll be okay?"

"How can I not with my boys just outside the door?"

Oliver just shook his head and did as he was bid.

* * *

Felicity went home later that day after giving Detective Lance images of her attacker from her home security system. He may have indicated that he would hold off on the chase for a little while if their mutual friend was interested in a head start.

Oliver and Diggle took her home, setting her up on her couch while they cleaned up the mess in her house, even replacing her door. She was a little impressed that her head had dented it though she learnt quickly not to mention it in front of either of them.

Oliver asked her if any of their equipment was good for interrupting a surveillance video and suspiciously disappeared for two hours. She hacked the surveillance video in SCPD's holding cells on a hunch and found that Yates' cell had had a malfunction and the video was missing about ten minutes. She didn't ask.

She slept peacefully that night; both her boys camped out in her living room.

* * *

It was just after midnight when Lance heard a commotion outside of the police station. Printing off the file about the man identified as Felicity's attacker he walked outside.

Sitting in the car park was a wooden crate, officers already levering off the lid with crowbars, muffled shouting from inside indicating that there was a man inside.

Once he was pulled out, Lance held up the photograph Felicity had given him and compared the man in the picture to the man in front of him.

"Subtle," Lance muttered, before shouting for someone to cuff the guy.

* * *

**Thanks for reading.**


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